It Happened at Weston
by Silverwing26
Summary: William needs a reaper to go on a less than desirable mission. So who gets 'volunteered' for it? Ronald Knox - of course. Now, if only he could get the very 'weird' Violet Gregory or worse yet, his fag Cheslock to leave him be, his mission would go much smoother.


"Why, exactly, am I doing this again?" Ronald asked, trying to adjust to his new suit.

William pushed his glasses further up his nose with one gloved hand. "Because it is important for us to keep apprised of the situation. It is part of our responsibility to investigate discrepancies on the To-Die List. You are well aware of this. As my subordinate, you will do as I tell you."

"Why not send Grell? I am sure he would love the opportunity to spy on the demon and the Phantomhive boy while he was there."

William grimaced. "Oh, I am sure nothing would go amiss sending Grell Sutcliff to an all boys school, with the demon present, no less. To add to that, you are the youngest among us. Your appearance is suitable."

Ronald flashed a lopsided grin. "So what you're saying, boss, is that the rest of you are too old?"

"This could become a long term assignment, Mr. Knox," William said coldly and Ronald perceived it for the threat that it was.

Ronald gulped and had the decency to look sheepish. "Which house am I in again?"

"Violet Wolf House."

"With the strange kids?!"

"They are _artistic_. It is the best fit for you."

Ronald actually frowned. "No one is supposed to know about that."

"Well I know," William replied. "And that is your own fault."

"You promised you wouldn't say anything."

"I have said nothing. I simply retained the information until needed. Let this be a lesson to you."

"That you are as cruel as Grell says you are?" Ronald quipped as he put his fists on his hips.

William arched a severe brow and sighed. "Not to get drunk and visit the Philharmonic."

**oOoOoOoOo**

"You have a new student in your dorm, don't you?" Redmond asked as he sipped his tea in the shade of the Swan Gazebo.

Violet seemed to ignore the question with his head bowed over his sketch pad. His fingers were busy passing back and forth across its surface. Behind him, Cheslock was leaning back against the railing of the gazebo, both his elbows supporting him. Greenhill looked between Violet and Redmond and after a short silence, cleared his throat.

Violet lifted his head and looked at the group owlishly. "Yes," he stated simply and then bowed his head back to his drawing.

"What was his name again?" Bluer asked as he straightened his glasses and looked up from the book resting on his knee.

"Knox. He's weird," Cheslock intoned from behind Violet. He sniffed to himself and then turned to look out over the lawn.

Redmond laughed lightly and set his tea cup down. "In that case, he _must_ be interesting. What talents does he have?"

"Music," a low voice came from beneath Violet's hood.

Greenhill turned his eyes to Cheslock. "Is that why you think he's _weird_? Surely he is no where near your talent."

"Wouldn't know, would I? I've yet to hear him play anything. Neither has Violet. He keeps weaseling out of it, and most of his classes for that matter." Cheslock scoffed and shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Bluer seemed momentarily disgusted with the conversation. "I find it hard to believe that he could consistently skip classes. Have you punished him for such a thing, Violet?"

"Hmmm," was the only response forthcoming and Bluer eventually went back to his book.

**oOoOoOoOo**

It had been a month and Ronald was no more comfortable than he had been when he arrived at Weston. He had taken the place of a student who withdrew when his family relocated to America. He found that spending every day in Violet Wolf House was a little like getting tipsy at one of Grell's parties, minus the sexual harassment – mixed music, poetry he didn't grasp, interpretive paintings, and more larger than life personalities than he was used to dealing with. He was used to dealing with the dead and dying, and the girls from the secretarial department, of course.

Shhhhh. His shoes made a hissing noise as he slid around a corner that he had taken too fast. He was running, trying to actually get to his Latin class for once this week. By choosing which classes he skipped out on carefully, and avoiding the dorm prefect, he was able to conduct his investigation with little interruption or black lash. However, the prefect's fag, Cheslock, had begun to take too much notice of him. So he figured he better change his tactics up a little bit. Latin class made him uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as the school uniform though. '_I hate this suit. And I miss my SHOES,_' he complained in his mind and dashed through the classroom door and into his seat just as class was about to begin.

Ronald took a steadying breath and then lifted his eyes to the front of the classroom. Professor Michaelis settled unnerving red eyes on the Reaper and flashed an unreadable smile. The students at large seemed to enjoy this particular teacher. Ronald knew, however, how dangerous he was. The demonic nature of the beast aside, Michaelis knew exactly what Ronald was, and therefore knew he was no student. The only upside to this situation was Ronald knew exactly what the demon was also, and therefore no teacher. Ronald pulled his books open, at least pretending to pay attention. He didn't have anything against Michaelis per-say... not like William did. He also didn't particularly like him, like Grell did. As long as they left each other alone, and neither interfered with the other's work, he figured live and let live... or die, as the case may be.

Gregory Violet sat in the desk next to Ronald. As always, his cloak was pulled around his shoulders and the large hood draped about his face obscured everything except the white strands poking out from the rest of the black. Ronald rolled his eyes and was about to turn back to the front of the room when he caught a glimpse of Violet's sketch book. He had the book propped open inside of his Latin book and his hand was sketching lines across the blank page. Violet was always drawing. ALWAYS. It was almost impossible to talk to the man because he only ever concentrated on the blank page in front of him. However, this time, Ronald noticed Violets head tilt up with frequency and he realized the shrouded young man was looking at something at the front of the class.

Curiosity piqued, Ronald leaned as inconspicuously as he could to get a better look at the sketch. His eyes widened a little with surprise. That was undoubtedly 'Professor Michaelis'. Violet was, after all, a brilliant artist, even though he tended to creep Ronald out a little bit. However, the artist had a _very interesting_ interpretation of his professor. One word came to Ronald's mind. Demon. Violet had rendered the charming teacher with horns, and with slitted feline pupils in his eyes. The respectable robes the man wore had been replaced with sweeping tatters of cloth and swirling black mists that poured forth from the artist's charcoal. In a flash of irony, Gregory had left the rosary that Professor Michaelis always wore intact in the sketch. This triggered Ronald to release probably the worst timed laugh of his life.

All eyes snapped towards Ronald, even Violet's, and that was saying something. His eyes darted around at the other students and then up towards the front of the room. Michaelis arched a brow and Ronald flashed a signature lopsided grin, that he hoped was disarming. The professor narrowed his eyes slightly and his lips twitched at the corners. Ronald felt the color leave his face.

"Knox."

Gulp... "Yes, Professor?"

"Translate the next section for us." Professor Michaelis loosely linked his arms in front of his chest and let a small smirk grace his lips.

"Uh... Sure thing, Professor..." Ronald grabbed the book in front of him. Thankfully, he had at least pulled his class materials out even though he wasn't really paying attention. He glanced to the side and saw Violet was absently tapping a section of the text. Was he cluing Ronald in on where he was supposed to start reading? Ronald certainly hoped so. He glanced at the top of the page quickly. 'Virgil's Eclogues. Just perfect...' he thought to himself.

Ronald began, _"You'll force me to die at last,"_ and he suddenly felt a little wary. His Latin was rusty and he looked up uncertainly at the demon professor's unchanging expression. He pressed on...

_"Now even the cattle seek the coolness and the shade,  
now even the green lizards hide themselves in the hedge,_" he continued, with only a slight hesitation now and then as he struggled to recall a word here or there. Really, when was the last time he needed Latin?

_"and Thestylis pounds her perfumed herbs, garlic  
and wild thyme, for the ...re-reapers weary with the fierce heat._" He stuttered over the word and shot a glance towards the front of the room. Professor Michaelis' smirk grew and he tilted his head to the side.

_"And while I track your footprints, the trees echo_  
with shrill cicadas, under the burning sun.  
Wasn't it better to endure Amaryllis's sullen anger,  
and scornful pride? Or Menalcas,  
though he was dark and you are blond?" Ronald finished and looked up from the page.

"You may be seated now, Knox," the professor chided in honeyed tones.

The youngest reaper had never sat himself down so quickly before. He shifted his gaze around and noted the attention of the rest of the class was back on the Professor where it belonged. He turned his head towards Gregory and mumbled a quick, "Thanks, man."

The large hood shook briefly and a nondescript "hmmm," was the only reply.

The bell releasing the students from class rang and with efficient quickness, materials were gathered and students began filing out of the classroom, some of them stopping to thank Professor Michaelis, or ask about when he would be available to answer questions. He held up his hand to stave off a student for a moment. "Knox. If you would stay behind a minute."

Ronald closed his eyes and sighed. "Sure thing, professor..."

The rest of the class emptied and Ronald hung towards the back of the room. He was tense and ready for Michaelis to make a move. If he did, the Reaper was prepared to break his cover. He wasn't sure how long this unspoken truce was going to last.

The demon teacher walked in front of his desk and opened his mouth to speak as the door to the classroom opened. "Professor Michaelis, I ..."

Ciel Phantomhive looked up and the words he was speaking took leave, rendering the boy speechless. Ronald smiled brightly and ran a hand through bi-colored hair. "Phantomhive..."

"Knox," the boy replied, completely masking whatever he may be feeling at the moment. "And what are you doing here?" Ciel looked towards Sebastian who simply had amusement dancing around his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, couldn't I?"

"But you did not."

Ronald frowned and glanced towards the door. "I'm working, if you must know."

"Actually, he is about to get himself out of a lecture about interrupting my class, since you have arrived." Professor Michaelis stood from where he leaned on his desk and shot Ronald a pointed look.

"So, uh, we're done here then?" Ronald smiled lopsidedly and headed for the door. "Be careful with that one, shorty," he called over his shoulder and disappeared into the hallway.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Ronald was strolling down one of the corridors with nowhere specific he needed to be at this moment. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he bopped his head to a tune only he could hear. His mind was turning over some difficulties as he walked. Much to his frustration, Phantomhive seemed to be conducting a similar investigation to his own. It was harder to get the information he needed when someone else was already poking their noses where they shouldn't be.

It seemed like he was in the right spot, though. The names of the students linked with the inconsistencies on the death list all seemed to involve Violet house. Honestly, he would rather get this over sooner rather than later and get back home. Even overtime was better than all of the rules, regulations, and dress code that came with being in the school. _'I miss my shoes,'_ he lamented, and not for the first time. He also missed the weekend parties. Ronald was getting rather bored of an all boys school.

Late afternoon light was shining through a wall of windows as Ronald rounded a corner. At least the architecture was impressive. Not that he had any real interest in architecture, but it was more interesting than what was in his text books. That reminded him, he had assignments he had to finish. _'This is ridiculous,_' he thought. "I didn't even do this much work when I was IN school." His voice echoed and he ducked his head sheepishly, not meaning to have spoken out loud.

As he reached the end of the hall, he saw a dark shape on the floor in one of the pools of shadows, where the afternoon light didn't reach. As he got a little closer, he recognized the dark purple hood, and a wisp of white hair peeking out. He sighed and then plastered a wide grin across his face. He walked over to Violet and opened his mouth to speak.

"You're weird," Gregory said completely monotone.

Ronald blinked several times with his mouth hanging open. Did that just happen? Some teenager with black lips, who avoided the sun, and wore a massive hooded cloak all the time just called him weird.

"I'm weird?! What about you?" he retorted with a sputter.

"Yes."

Ronald paused, waiting for more. Nothing was forthcoming. "What?"

"Yes."

"Look, I was looking for you to say thanks for helping me out in Latin with Michaelis."

"Hmm..." Gregory hummed, not looking up at Ronald. Instead his head was bowed over his sketch book and his hand never ceased its movements.

"Oh, it's you," a voice came from down the connecting hallway. Ronald turned his head to see Cheslock heading towards them. He always looked slightly disheveled. It was a look Ronald could appreciate. The guy looked cool, even if he tended to creep Ronald out a bit.

"It's me?" Ronald questioned when Violet's fag had closed the distance.

"Yeah, you. You shouldn't even be in this house. You're weird." Cheslock crossed his arms as he spoke.

"I'm not..."

"Weird," Gregory interrupted him.

"Right! I mean, no... What?" Ronald was getting confused.

"Violet, we should transfer this guy out of our house. He has no talent and Greenhill wants him anyway. He sees potential of some sort."

Well, this was bad. Ronald needed to stay right where he was until he had something of consequence to report back to William. He ran a hand through his hair and then shoved his hands back into his pockets. "I have... talent." It sounded so lame coming out of his mouth. He nearly cringed.

Violet looked up from his pad and blinked. "You do?" he deadpanned and Cheslock snickered from next to him.

Ronald flashed a lopsided grin. "Well...yeah. I mean I'm here, right?"

"And I'm still not sure how that happened," Cheslock quipped.

Gregory was still looking at Ronald with a blank expression. He had some deep eyes though, Ronald noticed. He almost felt like Violet was looking through him, rather than at him. It made him uncomfortable and he squirmed a little. Not much, though; he'd been to parties with Grell, after all and on several of those occasions it had taken him a little while to get drunk enough to forget the senior reaper's antics. The glare Cheslock was throwing him didn't phase him in the least, however. He'd been subjected to William's you-will-work-overtime-for-the-rest-of-your-afterlife stare for years and years now. Honestly, he didn't really care what two mortal teenagers thought about him, or so he told himself. He was a little peeved that the strange kids were calling HIM weird.

"Well, what do you want from me?" he finally asked, not seeing a way out of this conversation.

"Do something," Violet responded.

"Or we'll let Greenhill have you," Cheslock added.

Well, this wasn't going the way he planned it. Ronald looked between then for a moment and then shrugged. "Fine, fine. Come on..." He started walking back the way he had come from. His two house mates looked at each other for a brief moment and then began to follow Ronald down the hallway. They walked past classrooms and libraries and turned down yet another hallway. Cheslock raised his eyebrows when they stopped outside of a familiar room. Ronald pulled the door open and sighed when he found the place to be vacant. Violet followed him through the door, and his fag brought up the rear. Knox made his way toward the back of the room to gather what he needed. He brought a large case out of the closet and then settled himself down into a chair. Opening the case, he let his eyes trace the contents. It had been quite a long time since he had done this. He was more than confident in his abilities.

Though in general the whole thing brought back memories he would rather not remember. Not the least of which was his interaction with William after Ronald had indulged a bit.

Sighing, Ronald lifted the cello from its place on the floor and situated it between his knees. He brought the long neck up towards his shoulder and tightened the bow string. Ronald took a moment to tune the instrument to his satisfaction and then he closed his eyes. He exhaled slowly and then let the bow slide across the strings. His fingers practically danced along the neck of the instrument. Beautiful, rich notes flowed into one another as the bow bobbed up and down across string.

The melody grew louder and bolder and then would suddenly slow again. As it did so, the notes would grow quiet and his fingers would wiggle back and forth producing vibrato. Never once did he open his eyes and Gregory and Cheslock would be privy to a sight very few ever got to see. Ronald's face took on a look of serene concentration as he played and a slight pink hue dusted his cheeks. The undercover reaper was now engaged in a long string of running notes, all flowing together on one pull of the bow and his body moved in rhythm with his arm and the pulse of the music.

Gregory glanced to the side at Cheslock. "Bach..." Cheslock answered the unasked question.

"He's good."

"Yeah..." Cheslock looked over Violet's shoulder as he flipped a few pages in his sketch book, looking for the next clean page. Cheslock stopped him and reaching a hand over his shoulder, flipped to the page before the demon version of their Latin teacher. Staring back up at them both from the sketch book was none other than Ronald Knox with his eyes closed and his head bowed in concentration over the neck of a cello. "You did this the other day?"

"Hmm," was Violet's noncommittal answer.

"How did you know?"

"Just did."

"You're weird."

"Yes."

Ronald finished with a bit of a flourish and the note resounded softly through the empty room. He put his things away without a word and then came back to face the other two students. His cheeks still sported a bit of the pink blush.

"Bach," Cheslock stated.

"Suite No. 1 in G major," Ronald replied

"Sweet, too," Violet replied and dipped his head.

Ronald blinked. Was that a joke? The idea of Violet possibly cracking a joke was too humorous. It was a lame joke but that wasn't the point. Ronald started laughing and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "So am I going to Greenhill?"

"No, we'll keep you."

"Sounds good to me, man. Let's get out of here. Don't you guys ever loosen up and party around here?"

"Yes," said Violet and walked out of the room.

Ronald shook his head with a laugh and followed him out.


End file.
